And She Wishes Them All The Best
by Wings-of-Sapphire
Summary: This is the story of a girl who collected postcards to remember. They wish she was here. And she wants to wish them all the best.


**So, hi there! ... Dear me oh my, you're all going to kill me. It's been awhile! Like, what? Two months? Three? ... coughTwoYearscough. I make no promises, but for all of you who have read or will read my stories thank you so much. I still read all of the reviews that I get on them and I just decided "_What the heck?" _**

**This is a continuation of the story When They Wish She Was Here that I made in December of _2009__?!_****Ridiculous! But it's a lot more touching if you go back and read that one! As you can see, my writing style has changed drastically and I would love to hear your thoughts on this story and the change! **

**P.S. Those of you who actually remember this: There will be a sequel to When She Writes :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters used in this story**

I liked postcards.

Of course, I had liked a lot of things. But it was something that had stood out about me. Something that made me different. (As if I needed the help. _Damn _my pink hair.)

I bought postcards that I never sent. Instead, I stored them in a box in my closet. And on quiet nights when my teammates weren't storming in through my door looking like they hadn't eaten in a few days, I would take them out and admire them. I would surround myself with the places that I had been to, the things that I had seen. It helped me to remember.

The drugs made it easier to breathe, gave me false relief from the pain, but they made it harder to recall places. All of the sights and sounds and smells.

I hated that. I could remember medicinal facts. I could remember the logical, cold, unfeeling parts of my life. Sterile as the OR. But the messy, chaotic, beautiful memories blurred around the edges like old photographs.

And so, year after year, I would collect more places. Silly tokens of my life here.

My team eventually asked me who I was sending them to, well, Naruto actually yelled the question into my face but I counted it as a team effort. The louder he became the more people were involved in the asking. And that was probably one of the loudest questions that he had ever asked me.

It startled me though. Only for a moment. Catching me off guard that they had noticed... No. Rather, that they had cared. As ninja we are trained to notice things that other people might consider stupid or inconsequential. But it meant something that they had bothered to ask. It was only for a second, a beat of the heart, an intake of breath but it only took that small amount of time to be so completely moved that I could nearly cry.

Of course, I didn't though.

"_Oh, I don't send them __**to **__anyone." _

If I had been startled by their interest before, I was completely taken aback by the person who asked the follow up question. A dark haired Uchiha brat with too many repressed emotions and a far too monotone wardrobe questioned why I bought them if I had no place to send them to.

And, in a very no nonsense tone that not one of them could possibly argue with, I lied.

A half truth.

"_I like to have proof that I have gone to these places. Seeing new things is a big deal. Does anyone_ _present have a __**problem**_ _with that?" _

No one argued. And I tried to quell my guilt. I was protecting them, I would reason with myself. Maybe I would die in combat and they would never have to know that I had been dying anyway. And, oh, what a terrible and beautiful thought that was to have.

But, to my surprise, after that day I began to receive postcards. From all over the world. No matter where they were, I would always find a small note with words that they were all so fond of sending to me. Words that made me so indescribably happy. I kept them all. Stored away in my little box in the closet.

* * *

I didn't get my wish of dying suddenly on a mission. I was not killed protecting my Village. I did not fall in battle. Instead, I had lost a war within myself.

I thank Kami that they were not there to see me at the end. I had such clarity then, everything suddenly rushing back into my mind like the floodgates had been opened, every sight and smell and feeling. It was all there and I nearly laughed at how beautiful it all was, like the still life of my postcards had suddenly come to life. And in the end it was not a specific memory that I hung onto. It was each one of them. Their faces. Their voices. Loving them with everything that I had, everything that I wanted to be, everything that I dreamed that I could become. _My family._

And then, I was gone. Quietly departing into the night. I stopped breathing. And my flame flickered out.

My funeral was a somber affair. One that I would have hated to attend in life. And despised even more in death. I was not a ghost, not completely present. More like a whisper of wind. Only there to see the end.

They cried.

Secretly, of course. They had to be strong in front of their fellow shinobi. They had to be aware that there was nothing to be done. And _Sakura Haruno was a honorable ninja. _They already knew that though, had known it for years.

And they stayed long after the service, long after the thready warmth of the winter sun had faded into the chilling night. I was the wind and I sighed around them, pushing them to their homes. There is nothing for you here, I said softly, Sakura is not here.

* * *

I look down occasionally to see how they are doing. Mostly it's the same. The world spins madly on.

I am the wind again, a breeze this time, carrying the smell of flowers and grass and lazy sunshine. It has been so long and I swirl around my boys carefully, watching as they move. They are only there for an instant. Leaving me one last note with my favorite words written in nearly illegible script.

They visit that place more after that day. Almost never together, though. And on occasions I listen in, as they speak to the rock that is most _certainly _not me. Saying things that I wish they had the courage to say when I could have responded. When I was still breathing, albeit with some difficulty.

Sometimes I wish that I could have one last postcard.

The only one that I would ever send.

To the boys that I had chosen to remember even when the other memories faded away.

I already know what I would say.

* * *

_Wishing you all the best, _

_Sakura Haruno_

* * *

**_Please Read and Review :)_**


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